22 Letters and Notes, and a Song
by Taylor Hayes
Summary: In the aftermath of Kurt's drunken fall  or jump  in the river, his coma continues. His classmates, family and friends write a series of letters to him while he is unconscious. Continuation of "22 Calls, and a Hospital".
1. Prologue

****_a/n There is a fic that is a prequel to this called "22 Calls and a Hospital". If you haven't read it, I'd suggest hopping over real quick to do so, as everything makes a lot more sense if you do. *wink*_

__**… …**

**…**

**… …**

**Prologue**

**-Friday, Room 26 on the second floor of Lima Heights Hospital, 1:50 p.m. -**

Five days had passed since the teenager had been pulled out of the river, not breathing. It took two minutes for the paramedics to get his heart beating again, and even longer before they'd felt comfortable taking him off oxygen. But, besides a mild concussion and a broken wrist from impacting the water, there was nothing obviously wrong with Kurt.

Still, the coma wasn't ending, and Kurt wasn't waking up.

As if that weren't enough, the police had followed up on the case to find out where Kurt had gotten the alcohol, and come to the conclusion that the countertenor may have jumped off the bridge, or fallen. Turning that information over to the hospital, the doctors were now prepared to keep Kurt on a suicide watch once he woke up, just in case.

Burt had tracked down the couple who had seen Kurt go into the water, but they agreed that they weren't sure if the boy had ended up in the river on purpose or not.

After questioning Burt, and discovering that most likely Kurt had received the alcohol from adults who had been at the local 7-11, the police had also discovered all of the messages, pictures and texts Kurt had saved on his phone from David Karofsky. There were inappropriate sexts, and messages threatening Kurt with death if he ever told anyone, and the stalker had even referred to Kurt's room at Dalton and previous instances of sexual harassment at McKinley.

Doctor Lydia Lopez, mother of Santana Lopez, had been Elizabeth Hummel's doctor. Now she was Kurt's.

She had told the family that there was a good possibility that Kurt would wake at any time. She also suggested they read or talk to him, as it had been proven by scans of brain waves that coma patients seemed to hear and process.

Brittany was the one who demanded everyone write a letter for Kurt.

No one knew what to write, but they all decided to give it a try.

They missed Kurt, and they wanted him to wake up. Anything that might help, they would do.

As for Blaine, Burt had invited the broken boy to stay at the Hummel-Hudson home.

**… …**

_Dear Kurt, I can't tell you how much I hate myself right now. I wish_

**Letter found, unfinished, in wastebasket in the Hummel-Hudson kitchen.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Hummel-

Hey Princess. Brit's right, you are gonna have to wake up, cuz otherwise you'll never see that I wrote an actual freaking letter. What the hell is up with that, dude? So, I dunno what I'm supposed to say. No one is really sure what was up with you that night. You were wasted, that was pretty freaking obvious from all the drunk dialing you did. But all the doctors and police keep saying you might've just fallen in the stupid river, or you could've jumped. And, dude, that would not be cool. But yeah, we've all listened to most of the damn voicemails you left and it sounds like you're saying goodbye, and the end, and shit like that. Was it really that bad? Were we really that stupid that we didn't see? That douchebag Karofsky - the cops went through your phone and they found all the creepy shit he sent you. Dude, you were totally being stalked! And not in a hot, Swimfan kinda way. In a freaking terrifying One Hour Photo kinda way. Seriously, effing psycho. Your hobbit boy says you didn't tell was stupid, Hummel. And Finn didn't have a clue (which I get you not telling him, cuz he can be a total doofus) and neither did Carol or your girl Mercedes or your dad. Seriously, Princess, no one knew a damn thing. And that was a dumbass move. How the hell are we supposed to protect you if you don't tell us you're in danger, man? We're not psychic! (Yeah, so Sam got me to watch some lameass sci fi shit and one of 'em had a guy who could read minds, so what?) Anyway Karofsky's seriously screwed now. And Figgins and the school board are in a ton of trouble. Rach's dads convinced the local Gay, Lesbian and whatever Alliance to sue the school for "facilitating stalking and willful reckless endangerment, based on a student's sexual orientation", or some shit. Looks like Sylvester's gonna be principal again soon since she's the only one who took everything seriously. It's weird cuz Mr. S and Sylvester have made some kinda alliance. A little scary too. You got them working together! That's gotta be a sign of the apocalypse, dude. Anyway, know you don't believe in God or anything, but I said a couple prayers in Temple. Not for you but for your dad and that Blaine kid. They've been taking it hard. As for you, I've pretty much had the Beatles on repeat on my ipod since this whole thing started. It's like a prayer, but a version specially for you, you know? And when you wake up you better not be pissed. And I guess that's pretty much all I've got to say except that you better get your ass awake and out of that hospital bed soon so we can all stop freaking out, got it?

Puck

**… …**

_Santana's mom is nice. She can be as sharp as her daughter when a patient is being bothered or mistreated, but she's been very understanding and kind. Like yesterday, I brought you chapstick and she_

**Letter found, unfinished and crumpled, in a ball on floor of the Hummel-Hudson basement bedroom.**

**… …**

Dear Kurt,

Coach says you are sleeping, like Sleeping Beauty. I will find a prince to wake you up. And then we can go on our date. You called me and said I was nice. You are nice too.

Love, Becky

**… …**

Kurt,

This is Donna Jackson, Becky's mom. She asked me to help write you. From what Ms. Sylvester has told me, you are currently in a coma. I hope that Becky's letter will help, and I've told your family that if they need any help, anything at all, they can call me. Anytime.

Thank you for always being so wonderful to Becky. I can't tell you how many days she has come home in the past year excited about a compliment you gave her, or bubbling about how you were simply so kind.

Thank you for that.

Donna Jackson

**… …**

_Dear Kurt,_

_Brittany and Becky both told me you'd wake up if I kissed you. And I want to. I really, really want to kiss you, and have it be like a classic Disney movie. I want the music to swell, and watch color come back into your cheeks, and your lashes flutter, and see you open your amazing eyes and smile and lean up for another kiss._

_But I don't want to steal a kiss, because that would make me like Karofs_

**Letter found, unfinished and damp, ink running as though someone had cried on it, beneath coffee table in the Hummel-Hudson family room.**

**… …**

Rainbow-

I think it's time you woke the hell up. It's been more than a week, and Brits hasn't stopped crying the entire effing time.

You're a real bitch, you know that? I mean, you call me up to say I'm a bitch, while you're out and drunk, wandering around without supervision, and leaving voicemails that sent all of your loser friends into panic attacks.

And it's not just Brittany who's out of it. I'll deny it point blank if you ever breathe a word, but I'm actually starting to miss the old Berry. No, screw that. "Miss" is too strong a word. I guess it's more like something awkward and uncomfortable that you get used to the more time you have to put up with it, like a thong that keeps riding up. And then it's gone, and it feels really damn weird.

Quit blushing, Virgin Boy! You're not even interested in what's down there on a chick, so what's your issue?

Whatever. Man-Hands has started spending every minute either bawling, or working on her National Anti-Bullying campaign/bill. Then there's Frankenteen, who's been cuddling with your gay hobbit, 'cause he's so depressed even his Queer Fear is on the back burner.

As for the curly-headed midget, he keeps apologizing and crying. He and the retard BFG have both been sleeping in your bed. You're going to be super pissed when you wake up and see what a mess those two have made of your Couture room.

I only know about that 'cause Britters has been spending days there and dragging me along. I think she's been praying to your wardrobe, or something.

I swear if you don't open your girly eyes and get the hell out of that hospital bed soon I'll start shredding your Marc Jacobs, Lady! Got it? So wake the hell up already!

Santana

P.S. That message you left me-when you do wake up, you keep your mouth shut on those lies. I'm _not_ batting for the all-girl team! Bitch.

**… …**

Kurt-

You missed our lesson today. You have never missed a lesson before.

I had, of course, heard the New Direction members speaking of you. And Will has been kind enough to let them all know, each day, what he has heard from your step-mother, who has been keeping everyone updated on your condition. Your father called me as well to let me know.

I suppose I simply didn't believe it until 4:15 came around today, and you never walked in, sat down and started playing chords.

Twelve consecutive years of lessons, and never once have you missed. You've shown up drugged to the gills while you were ill, wearing a hospital mask so as not to pass on whatever you had. You even kept coming after transferring to Dalton.

You can't miss another lesson, Kurt. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: there is no adequate substitute for practice.

Two weeks, Kurt. Your next lesson is in two weeks, and you had better be there.

-Brad

**… …**

_Kurt, I came to visit today, and you're so white, and just sleeping. And it looks calm and peaceful, but you're not meant to be_

_I mean, you're made for the spotlight and_

**Letter found, unfinished, in wastebasket behind the attending nurse's desk on the second floor of the Lima Heights Hospital.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Kurt- Mike texted. Told me what happened. I can't do much from out here in Texas, but I hope you wake up soon. I'm sorry for all the times last year I didn't protect you. I know I never helped throw you in the dumpster or toss a slushy in your face. Still. Sorry I didn't stop it I should've. Once you wake up, email me back, ok? I always wanted to be your friend. Just never had the guts to say so. You're amazing Kurt.

-Matt

**… …**

Kurt,

I'm sorry. Please wake up so you can either forgive me or slap me. I have been a bitch this year. I abandoned you and Mercedes, after everything you did for me. I sold out Santana to Coach Sylvester to get my old spot back. And then, to top it all off, I went and cheated on the nicest boy I've ever met and messed everything up.

I do love Finn. He's a sincerely wonderful guy. But I think one of the reasons I like being with him is that he's always been so easy to control. And that's not something a good relationship can be based on. I think that's a large part of what my parents' relationship was founded in. My father dominated my mother, and she allowed it.

If there is one person I never want to be like it is my father. And when I'm with Finn, it is far too simple to slip into that role. The problem is I'm not sure how to fix that.

You would know what to say. I need your advice, and I need a chance to prove I can still be worthy of your friendship.

I love you, Kurt.

Quinn

**… …**

_Kurt,_

_Today, Dr. Lopez asked us all a bunch of questions about you. Were you depressed? Were you bullied? How serious was it? Did you take Karofsky's death threat seriously? Was there any other reason Karofsky threatened you? Did you tell any of us about the sexual harassment? How often did you drink alcohol? Did transferring to Dalton seem to make you happier?_

_Only, everything she asked was in past tense._

_If you don't wake up, I can't_

**Letter found, unfinished, in wastebasket besides piano in the McKinley High choir room.**

**… …**

Dearest Kurt,

We the Warblers, would like to apologize for being grade-A jackasses who

_Jeff! That is not appropriate for an official Warbler apology!_

So what? We weren't exactly being "Warbler appropriate" when we were giving him the silent treatment regarding the ¿Bisexual?Blaine Fiasco, or when we only ever thought of him as Dapperman's bowtie-wearing sidekick, Gayboy.

_You are deliberately trying to provoke me!_

**_Jeff's right, guys. We _****_have_****_ been jackasses, and we've got no right to protest that._**

I AGREE WITH JEFF AND NICK. WE'VE BEEN A BUNCH OF STUCK-UP JERKS. KURT DESERVED BETTER TREATMENT THAN WE GAVE HIM. I ADMIT, HIS AUDITION SONG DIDN'T FIT WITH OUR NORMAL SOUND.

_Not at all!_

**_Shut up and let David talk!_**

THANK YOU, NICK. CONTINUING - IT DIDN'T FIT WITH THE DYNAMICS TO WHICH WE ARE ACCUSTOMED. THE SAME DYNAMICS AND SOUND WHICH HAS **NEVER GOTTEN US PAST REGIONALS IN COMPETITION**. HAVE WE EVER STOPPED TO CONSIDER THE FACT THAT WE HAVE A VAST ARRAY OF TALENT AT OUR DISPOSAL, BUT BECAUSE WE HAVE SHOEHORNED OURSELVES AS AN ACAPELLA, TOP-40 POP HITS CHOIR, WE RARELY MAKE USE OF THAT TALENT? A CHOICE WHICH HAS NOT PAID OFF. EVER.

Damn. He's got a point.

_But it's tradition!_

WHICH, I REPEAT, HAS BEEN KIND ENOUGH TO GET US EXACTLY NOWHERE. THEN, TO TOP IT ALL OFF, WE HAVE A VOICE LIKE KURT'S DROPPED IN OUR LAPS, AND HOW DO WE REACT?

Tell him he doesn't fit and treat him like a strange outsider.

**_Stand back and allow Blaine to screw with his heart, and convince Kurt to tone himself down._**

NOT TO MENTION MAKING NO REAL EFFORT TO BE HIS FRIENDS.

**Hey! I tried!**

You don't count, Thad. You're one of the weirdos who is legitimately nice to everyone, and who also just wants to be friends with _everyone_. Some of us are stuck in a rut, and don't know how to make friends with people we haven't known since grade school. Right, Wes?

_I am neither "stuck in a rut", nor the elitist you are making me out to be!_

**_Really? Then prove it. Screw tradition. Give a solo to someone _besides_ Blaine. Give us the chance to perform _one single song_ with instrumental backing. Give Kurt the opportunity to shine and blow the other glee clubs in the area out of the water. He and Blaine, performing together, could win us just about anything._**

**_And you've been ignoring that fact in the name of goddamn tradition!_**

_Language!_

**_Bite me!_**

**Thad here, taking over to say the meeting has dissolved into complete chaos. There's yelling and angry faces and "language unbecoming of a Warbler" flying around. Which shouldn't be funny, but it kind of is.**

**Anyway, I just wanted to say I still want to be your friend. I'm sorry everything's been so screwed up lately. And I promise that, whether you come back to Dalton or not, I will still keep bothering you about hanging out and being friends. -Thad**

THAD! YOU JUST STOLE WHAT WE WERE **ALL** PLANNING TO SAY!

**Oops. Sorry.**

**_No you're not. The grin gives it away, idiot._**

And now Thad won't stop laughing evilly.

_Great. Just great. He's finally cracked._

And it's all your fault, Wes.

_What? No it's not!_

YES IT IS. YOU AND THAT STUPID GAVEL.

**_Seriously, you're in a relationship with David, and you're making him jealous of an inanimate object. I think that says a lot, Wes._**

_David and I are not in a relationship! Quit saying that we are!_

**Someone's in denial.**

**_Come out of the closet already!_**

CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE QUIT IT? MELODY, YOU REMEMBER MY **GIRLFRIEND?**, IS GETTING TIRED OF CONSTANTLY HAVING TO TELL PEOPLE THAT SHE'S NOT MY BEARD.

We'll quit it you two will admit it.

SORRY, BUT WES AND I ARE SIMPLY IN AN EPIC BROMANCE, NOTHING MORE.

**_Lame._**

Very.

_Can we get back to the point?_

Right! So:

Dear Kurt,

We, the Warblers, would like to apologize for being ginromous and complete assholes (Shut up, Wes!), who have not treated you with the respect, kindness, acknowledgement and friendship you deserve. We ask your forgiveness for our stick-up-the-ass tendencies, and would like to truly be your friends and compatriots in Warbler-hood.

With that in mind, we also ask that you forgive and accept ownership of our adorable, gay frontman/mascot, one Blaine Anderson. (Seriously, Wes, _shut up!_) We hereafter bequeath his care and well-being to you, and give you permission to discipline him (in _whatever_ way you and he should agree upon - _Stop kicking me, Wesley!_ And quit blushing. After all, your kinks aren't necessarily their kinks!), should he start acting oblivious again.

Sincerely yours,

The Warblers

_Jeff, you're an idiot._

And you all love me anyway.

**… …**

_The Warblers stopped by today. Asked if my parents even knew I was missing school. (They do. They're not happy, but it's not like I could do anything at Dalton, even if I was there. Without you, I couldn't_

**Letter found, unfinished, on table in the Hummel-Hudson dining room.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Hey ya Kurt.

I miss you. Brittany and me were planning to kidnap you to work on a new routine. And then this…

Why did you have to call me and say that? God, it hurt to hear that. It was weirdly sweet to know I was your first choice of girl to claim you had a crush on.

I "wasn't scared to catch the gay", huh?

It's so wrong. And then we find out about Karofsky. I wanted to snap his thick neck, Kurt. I already missed you so much, then to find out he didn't just drive you away, he was still making it his life's work to scare you.

I wanted to hurt him. I still do. If Rachel's dads, and Mr. Lopez weren't already filing all sorts of lawsuits against him, I would see how much damage I can do with my lame excuse for martial arts.

I miss you Kurt. I miss you so much it hurts. And now I'm terrified that I'll never get to talk to you again. I need you to wake up, Kurt. To be okay and not suicidal, because I need you in my life.

After everything with Artie, you were the only person who didn't side one way or the other. You managed, impossibly, to stay friends with both of us. And I love you for that.

Please wake up Kurt.

Tina

**… …**

_Why won't you wake up, Kurt? You need to wake up! Please, God, someone, wake him up! I need him. I need him so much. How could I be so _stupid?

**Pieces of letter found, ripped up, in trash bin on sidewalk outside of the Lima Heights Hospital.**

**… …**

Kurty!

We miss you, hot stuff. You should get better and come back to the squad.

Love you tons and tons!

The Cheerios

**… …**

Mr. Kurt Hummel,

It is with deepest regrets that we apologize for any and all prior inconvenience or emotional and physical trauma which may have resulted due to our failure to protect you, or see the unsafe situation another student had put you in.

With humblest apologies,

Shankar Figgins

Principal, William McKinley High School

**… …**

_Kurt,_

_Rachel's dad and Santana's dad are suing Karofsky, Figgins, the school board and anyone and everyone else they can think of. It's kind of terrifying. And someone in the media heard, and now it's national news. People keep calling your house, even thoughyour name should have been kept confidential. Dr. Lopez has been on a rampage, chewing out her staff, trying to find out who leaked your information. Your dad always yells whenever he picks up and it's a reporter. Carol lectures them. Finn cries. I've been watching everyone else. It's_

**Letter found, unfinished, on a visitor chair in the second-floor hall of the Lima Heights Hospital.**

**… …**

Deer Kurtsie

I mis u nd u shuld get bettr sune, ok?

Luv,

Brittany S. Pierce

p.s. Ur cute dolfin boyfrend mises u 2. nd he s bin mkinly a lot late ly, so cud i kiss him 2 keep my purfect scor? if u don t want me 2, u need 2 wake up nd say so. k? I luv u lots nd lots.

**… …**

_Finn told me about last year, and the Bambi thing where you threw up all over Miss Pillsbury's shoes. No wonder you didn't drink at the party at Rach_

**Letter found, unfinished and scribbled out, in wastebasket in the Hummel-Hudson basement bathroom.**

**… …**

Dear Kurt,

My fathers and Santana's father, Mr. Lopez, are doing everything in their power to prosecute those who forced you out of McKinley. I don't think any of us realized how bad things had gotten for you.

After everything that happened with Karofsky came out, Noah asked Jacob if he had any video of how the jocks were treating you just previous to your transfer to Dalton.

It was hideous to watch. Jacob had documented everything surprisingly well, and now my fathers and Mr. Lopez are using the tapes to prove that even teachers and staff at McKinley ignored the bullying, looking away whenever you were the target.

We will get them. I promise.

I'm also drafting an Anti-Bullying petition with a list of promises all those who sign are making to stop bullying in their area. I'm sending it to the Gay-Straight Alliances at every high school and university in the state.

I would like to apologize for the way I acted. I should not have disregarded what I knew about your feelings towards Blaine, by asking him out. He is to blame as well, since he said yes, but that doesn't absolve me from my own selfishness.

I know you don't always like me, but I want you to know that I have always had an overwhelming amount of respect for you, even when we have been in direct competition. You were always my greatest competition in glee, and your strength is a beacon to those of us who are outcasts from society at large.

I hope you will forgive me, and that I can earn the right to once again call you my friend. I also hope, especially for the sake of your father, Carol, Finn and Blaine, that you break through this coma and prove once again how strong you are.

Sincerely,

Rachel

**… …**

Hey Boo.

I've been a horrible bff. I should've been there, but I was worried I was losing you to a cute, dashing gay guy. I always assumed you and me, we'd be together through high school, and neither of us would find the right guys for us until we hit college - loud and proud.

After all, people here in Lima are just not ready for this level of amazing.

And because of that, I pushed you away.

I was pissed, but mostly I was scared you just didn't want to talk with me about anything anymore when you didn't warn me you were gonna transfer. I get now that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Karofsky.

Anyway, you'll always be my best friend, white boy. And I hope I'll always be yours.

Love,

Mercedes

**… …**

_I was talking to Finn and he told me about the redecorating fiasco, and what he called you when he freaked out. I punched him in the nose and_

**Letter found, unfinished and crumpled, spotted with a few specks of dried blood, in wastebasket in the Hummel-Hudson basement bedroom.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Kurt

You're my brother. I know I've been crappy to you before. I told Blaine about when you tried to fix up the room for us. He broke my nose. I know that you won't be happy when you wake up, but I deserved it. You never hit me, and neither did Burt. I should've gotten hit though.

I'm sorry. I should never have called you that. Your message scared me. I heard it and thought you might be saying goodbye. Rachel had me read these things about all these people who killed themselves because they were being treated bad because they were gay.

They talked with the families of the kids, and they talked about the bullies. I acted worse than some of them.

It could've been you. And now this stuff with you and the school and Karofsky is all over the internet, and people keep calling.

I just want my brother home.

-Finn

**… …**

Kurt-

Hey.

I wanted to be your friend too. And sure, Finn made you sound a little weird, but I didn't care. I mean, you had talent in spades. And you wanted to sing with _me?_ When we first talked about it, you seemed so sure that we could win. That was flattering, that you already believed in me so much.

I'm sorry I got caught up in Quinn. Especially with the way everything's happened with her and Finn. That hurt, to find out she messed around behind my back with her ex. And the night at Breadstix when you and the Warbler dudes sang, you just kinda made it a point to come over and talk to me for a little while. You probably didn't mean to, but it made me feel a whole lot better.

That message you left was pretty flattering too, that you thought me with a black eye was hot. I've been wishing a little bit, ever since I met you, that I was gay, 'cause I know you'd be the perfect boyfriend. You'd never cheat on me or screw with my head. You'd just be your awesome self. That Blaine kid is a serious idiot if he doesn't get over whatever his stupid hang ups are and just go for you already.

Sorry if that got a little personal.

When you wake up, I'd still like to be your friend. And this time, I'll stick to that age old agreement guys have with each other - bros before hos.

And now you're gonna be the one to give me a black eye when you wake up for saying that, aren't you? I'm laughing right now, and it's totally okay if you do punch me once you're awake. 'Cause you'll be awake, and that's all that really matters.

Sam

**… …**

Is it messed up that I'm sort of glad you didn't call me? I know you called pretty much everyone else, and I also know that you and me aren't bff's or anything. But I was glad I didn't have to hear you break down. Because you're YOU, Kurt. You don't break down. You just look down your nose at everyone and cut them to pieces with words that make them feel about the size of an ant.

I think hearing you break down like some of the others did, I think it might've broken me a little bit too.

Tina's a wreck. Everyone is, really. We missed you when you left McKinley, and now this, it's a lot to take in.

Get better, Kurt. We need you.

Mike

**… …**

Kurt,

I feel like I have failed you.

I never meant to make you feel uncertain, or like you couldn't come to me with anything. I saw how bad things were just before your transfer, and there seemed to be nothing I could do. I trusted the school board to fix things, along with Sue, and in the end they did not live up to my expectations.

I would like to say I'm sorry for all the times I made you feel unprotected, unwelcome, and misunderstood. It was never on purpose, but that doesn't change facts. I've taken the time before to help out other members of the club in their moments of trial and fear, yet I couldn't do the same for you. Rachel's campaign, and the footage the Berrys and Mr. Lopez received from Jacob ben-Israel has made it clear just how badly I failed you, and how much we -myself and the other teachers here- overlooked and outright ignored. I have never been so ashamed of myself, or my colleagues.

I'm doing my best to educate myself on many things that, in the past, I've pretended don't matter. If you ever decide to return to McKinley, I promise you, this time I will do whatever I need to to support you and let you know that I care, and that I recognize how gifted and driven you truly are.

I hope to see you awake soon,

Will Schuester

**… …**

Dear Kurt,

I know that life can be hard. And I know you think I'm a little kooky. That doesn't change the fact that all I want is what's best for the students at McKinley. And even though you're not a student here anymore, I still worry about you and want your life to be as amazing and wonderful as you've always seemed to have planned.

Sincerely,

Emma Pillsbury

**… …**

You just dropped this on us. I hate you a little bit for that. I'm supposed to be your friend, Kurt, and I have to find out about Karofsky being a deranged creeper from drunken voicemails? What's up with that?

Listen, I just-

I just miss you, Kurt.

-Artie

**… …**

_Kurt,_

_I never meant to hurt you. I was just scared. And Rachel was_

**Letter found, unfinished, in wastebasket in the Hummel-Hudson second floor bathroom.**

**… …**

Kurt,

Your talent is inferior to my own, as well as that of Rachel, though she clearly lacks control. You have spent most of your time stereotyping yourself as a countertenor and flamboyantly gay, which, while popular in certain circles of gay men and their "hags", who consider such mannerisms to be positive and attractive, will take you nowhere in the competitive business you expect to join.

That said, you _do_ have talent. Immense talent. Your range is unparalleled, and if you could learn to act less like a stagehand begging to be noticed and more like the director of your own life, demanding the attention and acknowledgment which should rightfully be yours, you will -I guarantee- succeed where others have failed spectacularly. Your potential is unlimited, if you can begin to focus on improving yourself and your ability to act as the consummate professional performer.

Best of luck,

Jesse St. James

**… …**

Hummel-

Pull it together, gay kid. You're too freaking fantastic to end like this.

xo - Lauren

**… …**

_Your dad pulled out a photo album today. You look a lot like your mom. You both have the same eyes and cheekbones and hair._

_And you both seemed so small, but so full of life._

_I can't imagine what it must have been like for you when she_

**Letter found, abandoned, in the Hummel-Hudson guest bedroom.**

**… …**

**-Tuesday, Room 26 on the second floor of Lima Heights Hospital, 9:47 a.m.-**

Alone in a quiet, white room, there was a twitch from the figure on the bed.

Then, slowly, a pair of eyes whose color changed depending on the light fluttered, and opened.

It took the boy a few moments to process where he was, before he reached for the nurse call button on his hospital bed.

Kurt Hummel was awake.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**-Tuesday, Room 26 on the second floor of Lima Heights Hospital, 10:22 a.m.-**

Kurt had been awake for less than three hours, when Mercedes had arrived with the stack of papers.

Now, Kurt stared at the pile in confusion, then glanced at his bestie.

"'Cedes, what is this?"

"It was Brit's idea," the girl shrugged. She wanted nothing, at the moment, so much as to pull her boy into the tightest hug she could, but he still looked so damn fragile.

Slowly, he reached out with his good hand and tugged the papers closer, and tilted his head to get a better look at the top one.

It had a picture of two dolphins, drawn in crayon, and a heart above them, along with a cat and a rainbow.

Under that, in curly writing, was a message.

"_Deer Kurtsie_

_I mis u nd u shuld get bettr sune, ok?_

_Luv,_

_Brittany S. Pierce_

_p.s. Ur cute dolfin boyfrend mises u 2. nd he s bin mkinly a lot late ly, so cud i kiss him 2 keep my purfect scor?_ _if u don t want me 2, u need 2 wake up nd say so. k? I luv u lots nd lots._"

The laughter this caused hurt. And Kurt was glad. He missed laughing like that.

"I still don't understand," he finally said, after he had recovered from both the laughing, and the hurt gasps that followed.

Mercedes smiled softly. "Brittany told us all we should write you, so that you _had_ to wake up, otherwise you'd never know what we wrote, and that would force you to snap out of it."

Kurt nodded. That did sound like Brittany logic.

Then he sighed and glanced around the room. "Have you seen Blaine? My dad… he said Blaine was here, but when I woke up…"

The diva chuckled. "Give him a bit, white boy. He's been here, or staying at your house almost this entire time. I think he went to get some sleep, and your dad probably wanted some time alone with you, after you woke up and the doctors were done with all their tests. He should be back soon."

"Okay," Kurt sighed. Then he blinked. "Wait. _Where_ has Blaine been staying?"

"Your house. With Carol and Finn, and your dad, the few times he went home," she giggled. "It's sweet."

Kurt eyes were wide with disbelief. "Why would he-? Does he really feel that guilty? He didn't have to-!"

"Oh, baby boy, he wanted to," she broke in, before nodding at the pile of papers. "Check through there, give them a read, and you'll see what I mean, okay? I'm gonna go talk to everyone else. Reassure them that I really saw you and you're really okay, y'know?"

"Yes, I- Okay," he absentmindedly agreed, not even noticing when the girl walked out of the room.

Instead, he reached out and pushed aside the sheet from Brittany, before carefully taking the next in hand and beginning to read.

**… …**

Several hours later, Kurt again looked at the stack.

It was wonderful and painful to read what everyone had to say. A few had surprised him, like Noah and Mike. Even Matt had written an email, which someone had printed off. The letter from Figgins had been more offensive than helpful, but it was something.

The one thing that left Kurt at a loss was the lack of a letter from Blaine.

From the boy he loved, there was nothing.

Almost everyone said Blaine had been concerned. He had even, apparently, spent most of the past two weeks at Kurt's house. But not so much as a note to Kurt.

He fought the tears, waiting for his father to return from the well-earned rest he was finally taking.

Hearing steady footsteps in the hall, aiming for his room, Kurt tried to clean himself up as well as he could with what Carol had brought him earlier.

Then the door swung open, and in walked a blushing, disheveled Blaine.

The Dalton boy's hair was a mess of untamed curls, and he wore what looked to be an old jersey of Finn's and a pair of loose-fit jeans Kurt had received as a present last Christmas and left, untouched, in his closet. The shoes were a pair of boots Kurt recognized from the winter season. He had never seen Blaine look so messy. And he had also never cared less.

Finally, he noticed what Blaine had in hand: Sam's guitar.

When Kurt opened his mouth to speak, Blaine held up a hand.

"Listen, I know we need to talk. But I've been trying to find the right words this entire time. And I… well, I think maybe I finally did. So, please, just listen for a few minutes. Please?"

Kurt wanted to argue, but those deep brown, puppy dog eyes were shining and hopeful and sad and sorry. He couldn't say a word, just nodded softly.

Blaine sat down in the chair beside Kurt's bed, carefully held the guitar in his lap, and started to strum.

"_I've been alone, surrounded by darkness. I've seen how heartless this world can be._

"_I've seen you cry. You felt like it's hopeless, but I'll always do my best to make you see._

"_Baby, you're not alone, 'cause you're here with me. And nothing's ever gonna bring us down, 'cause nothing can keep me from loving you. And you know it's true. It don't matter what'll come to be, our love is all we need to make it through._"

The words made Kurt's heart hurt in the most wonderful way, and Blaine was directing every bit of emotion straight at the gorgeous boy in the hideous hospital gown.

"_Now I know it ain't easy but it ain't hard trying. Every time I see you smiling, and I feel you so close to me, and you tell me._

"_Baby, you're not alone, 'cause you're here with me. And nothing's ever gonna bring us down, 'cause nothing can keep me from loving you. And you know it's true. It don't matter what'll come to be, our love is all we need to make it through._

"_I still have trouble. I trip and stumble trying to make sense of things sometimes. I look for reasons, but I don't need them. All I need is to look in your eyes and I realize._

"_Baby, I'm not alone, 'cause you're here with me. And nothing's ever gonna bring us down, 'cause nothing can keep me from loving you. And you know it's true. It don't matter what'll come to be, our love is all we need to make it through, ooh._

"_'Cause you're here with me. And nothing's ever gonna bring us down, 'cause nothing, nothing, nothing can keep me from loving you. And you know it's true. I don't matter what'll come to be, you know our love is all we need. Our love is all we need to make it through._"

At the end of the song, Blaine carefully set the guitar on a chair behind him, then softly took Kurt's hands in his own.

"Kurt, I'm scared. I'm a coward, and I give horrible advice, and I'm a crappy drunk, and I won't always make the right choice or say the right thing.

"But-" He paused and cleared his throat, finally looking straight up into Kurt's face. "I love you. I want to be with you. I hope you can forgive me, and I know that I've been a jerk in the past and-"

The countertenor cut him off as decisively as he was able - by pressing his own lips against Blaine's.

The kiss was everything Kurt had dreamed of for his first real one; it was gentle and sweet, with an edge of desire. But most of all, it tasted like love.

A minute passed, then two, before they finally drew back. Blaine looked dumbstruck, while Kurt was grinning more beautifully than the older boy had ever seen.

"Thank you," he whispered. Blaine's brows drew together in puzzlement, and Kurt sighed, pressing his forehead against the other boy's. "For loving me."

Blaine let out a little chuckle. "It's my pleasure."

By the time Burt returned, the two teenagers had curled up together on the bed. Burt found both, sleeping easily. And for the first time in months, maybe years, he felt peace slip through him.

**the end.**

**… …**

**…**

**… …**

**_a/n There is a sequel to this up called "22 Therapy Sessions and Realizations, & a Decision", which revolves around Kurt trying to figure out if he fell or jumped the night of "22 Calls and a Hospital" - his memory of the entire night is fuzzy and even he's not sure._**

**_a/n2 The brilliant song I used is called "Not Alone", and was written by the lovely and incredibly adorkable Darren Criss. If you're looking for this version, just youtube HIS performance which he did for a college radio station - I love A Very Potter Musical as much as the next Starkid, but their version doesn't really have the feel I was aiming for with this. Also - WHO WATCHED *FIRST TIME* LAST NIGHT? Geez, my heart just about burst! And I'm suddenly feeling oddly sympathetic towards Karofsky. But at the moment, all that's important is that EVERYTHING IS KLAINE, AND NOTHING HURTS. *griiiiiiin* I love those two. So much._**


End file.
